


True Love Touch

by invisible_slytherin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curses, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Middle of the Night Talks, Mostly hurt, Post-War, Soulmates, Touch-Starved, Touching, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25581301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisible_slytherin/pseuds/invisible_slytherin
Summary: "The curse was quite forward in its intent, Harry had to give it credit for that, not that it was a particularly good thing. Truly a great thing to be cursed with if one was painfully single and painfully not in love with anyone."Or, the one where Harry is cursed with a love spell and Draco doesn't get any sleep.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 35
Kudos: 778





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I haven't written fanfic in months and I missed it. I have no idea how long this will be or what will happen, I'm quite a mess one could say. But, I plan on finishing it in the next week so stay tuned.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this!

Harry stared at the black and blue bruises all over his arms. He didn't need to see the ones on his back to know where they were. They hurt as he turned on his bed, the fabric brushing against them making little prickles of pain run up and down his body.

The door had been closed not too long ago, his roommates leaving for their classes. Classes that Harry didn't think he would ever miss until he had been forced out of them. Forbidden from leaving his room, fear for his health speaking louder than anything else.

He hadn't been too concerned when the bruises had started appearing, he had connected it to being clumsy and hurting himself on accident. No one had been concerned at first. But then the bruises kept appearing.

They appeared so quickly that they started overlapping each other, old one not having enough time to fade before new ones emerged. There was only so much that could be linked to his clumsiness. The array of bruises on his arms, his wrists coloured purple, his bruised back that had scared Ron quite a bit when Harry had taken his shirt off one night; those couldn't be because of clumsiness.

Hermione had made him go to Madam Pomfrey as soon as she caught sight of how bad it was. There had been worry laced in her eyes as she stared at him, looking over his bruises and fussing around, mumbling about spells and medical treatments.

Madam Pomfrey had also been in a state as soon as she had laid eyes on him.

"Oh, dear," she had said and had run out of the room before they could say anything.

Harry had been torn between feeling confused and scared. He had been at the hospital wing a fair amount of times and he had never seen Madam Pomfrey acting like this. He had never seen her lose her cool when faced with one of his many injuries over the years. But the way she had acted this time, the staring open-mouthed at him, the fumbling for words before giving up on them and rushing out of the room. It was different.

It had been quite scary. The bruises hadn't seemed worse than some of the problems Harry had had growing up at Hogwarts, so to see her like that, it had made his nerves skyrocket.

Hermione had paced around the infirmary as they waited while Ron had sat on the chair next to Harry's bed, staring ahead. Harry had felt like biting his nails. The silence that had engulfed the room had been suffocating and he hadn't known how to deal with it. It had made his mind run laps and pick up possibilities and the idea of terrible outcomes on its way.

When Madam Pomfrey had finally come back to the room, she was accompanied by McGonagall, Slughorn and Flitwick. Seeing the band that had arrived at the room had not done anything to calm Harry's mind.

His mind had been right to be worried. The news they had gotten hadn't been great, they had been quite terrible, really. The professors had asked question after question, questions that Harry hadn't been able to properly answer. He hadn't known exactly when the bruises had started to appear since he hadn't paid them any mind at the beginning. He hadn't known how long any of it had been going on, he hadn't even known it had been going on.

McGonagall had summoned a chair and had sat in front of Harry. Her eyes were deep-set and worried and Harry just wished someone, anyone, would tell him what was going on.

Then, he wished he had stayed in the dark.

They had told him that he had been hit by a spell. Dark magic, damaging dark magic. Flitwick had called it a 'love curse' and Hermione's head had shot up. Harry had never hated the sound of two words together more than he did right then.

A love curse. Someone had cast it on him at an unknown time, their best guess had been at the last Hogsmeade trip since they doubted any of the students would be this competent at the dark arts. According to McGonagall, it was an old curse that hadn't been used for centuries, but still famous for how terrible it was.

It was called the 'True Love Touch', a rubbish name if anyone asked Harry for his input. Also, a stupid thing to be cursed with. Why would anyone want to curse him with something like that?

The curse was quite forward in its intent, Harry had to give it credit for that, not that it was a particularly good thing. Bruises would appear on the skin of the cursed. Triggered by a touch of anyone except their true love. Truly a great thing to be cursed with if one was painfully single and painfully not in love with anyone.

The professors hadn't known what to do with him. They had never had to deal with a case like that and they hadn't been sure what would be the right course of action. When Hermione had asked if there was a counter-curse, they had hesitated and then Slughorn had said that they would research until they found something. It didn't do much to reassure Harry.

He had tried to stray away from any touches at first. Avoiding people at all costs and ducking out of arms and hands' reach. But it turns out that it is quite hard to avert all and every little touch.

He couldn't escape the pushing and shoving of busy corridors between classes, he didn't even think about swatting Hermione away when she pulled his arm or his wrist to go somewhere, it didn't even cross his mind to stop Ron or any of the other boys from clapping him on the shoulder or on the back. It was impossible to avoid the small casual touches because they happened without anyone even paying them any attention.

When the bruises got worse, so bad that they were more visible than the actual skin on his arms, Hermione had put her feet down and hadn't let him go to class. And if Hermione hadn't let him go to class, it had to be a really bloody terrible situation. She had come back at the end of the day, McGonagall and Pomfrey in tow and the three of them had deemed that he was to stay at Gryffindor Tower until further notice.

Harry hadn't ever thought that he would want to go to class. But as he sat up in his bed, alone in the dorm room, as he went down the stairs to the empty common room and ate alone the breakfast the house-elves had brought him, he could only hope that things would go back to normal.

One normal year had been all he had asked for but he couldn't even get that, the universe seemed set in testing him in every way, shape and form, each one more ridiculous than the other.

***

It was the middle of the night. Harry wasn't sure exactly what time, but the sky was pitch black outside, not even the moon making an appearance.

He had taken a nap during the afternoon, intent on passing some time without going mad with boredom, and had ended up sleeping more than he had meant to. Now, he wasn't able to fall asleep.

He tossed and turned in bed, flipping his pillow in hopes that the cold side would help him. He kicked at his sheets, pretending that he wasn't able to sleep because it was too warm. He closed his eyes again and kid himself into thinking he was falling asleep for a while.

Then he gave up. With a groan, he got up from the bed and carefully walked to the foot of his bed where he kept his trunk. He took a warm jumper, one that covered his arms and his shoulders enough not to have to stare at the bruises on them. Then, he grabbed his invisibility cloak and walked out of the room, listening closely to his sleeping classmates to make sure that none of them was stirring awake with the noise.

The common room was empty, the fire still lit and warming up the room, casting an orange glow on the walls and furniture.

He put his cloak over himself as he stepped through the portrait hole and shivered. The castle was considerably colder outside the Gryffindor tower, the old walls doing nothing to keep the Scottish winter outside. He was happy for the jumper that warmed him as much as it covered what he didn't want to look at.

He walked aimlessly for a while, secure that no one would see him, through the corridors and the moving stairs. It was a fun game to play, not knowing where he would end up and just peering over corners and through windows. It was like discovering Hogwarts again, as he had done when he had been only 11 and everything had been new and exciting.

Now, it was good to be able to walk the Hogwarts corridors again without the fear of bumping into anyone, having someone shove him out of the way or giving him a friendly pat on the back. It was good to be able to move around Hogwarts again, he had missed it. Being confined to the Gryffindor area simply didn't cut it for him, Hogwarts in its entirety was his home and he had been missing it greatly.

Another set of stairs later and Harry sighed as he looked up at the Astronomy Tower. He could climb those last stairs and sit up there, look at the ground from there and stare at the sky. It had always been a beautiful place to go to unwind, but Harry couldn't seem to be able to move his feet as much as he wanted to.

Dumbledore's death still haunted him too much to be able to sit at that tower again without seeing him fall down the railing. He couldn't sit there and not see the flash of green that had come out of Snape's wand. The tower was filled with memories he didn't want to relive and he wouldn't torture himself with them.

He let the stairs take him to another path, one that ended on the fourth floor and he jumped out of them. The corridor was as dark, cold and blissfully empty as the others had been. Harry walked along the wall, one finger shooting out to touch it as he walked, feeling the rough stone against his skin.

He almost turned around before even reaching the end of the corridor, set on going back to the stairs and go somewhere else before going back to bed. However, even in the darkness, he could make out a hunched over figure sitting on the floor by the last window of the corridor.

He stopped on his tracks, unsure of what to do and not knowing who it was and what they were doing there. Then, he threw caution at the wind and slowly walked up to the window. He tried not to make any noise as he walked or with his breathing, the quiet corridor making it easier to spot any out of place noise.

And he thought he had been successful in his attempt, but then a head shot up and a pair of eyes stared straight at the place where he was standing. His fingers reached for his wand as a reflex and he took a careful defence stance beneath the cloak. Then, he took notice of the barely visible almost white hair and relaxed.

And when had Harry started being able to relax because he recognized the figure as Draco Malfoy?

Harry's shoulders dropped and his fingers left the wand, body moving into a more comfortable position. He stayed in silence, Malfoy could have heard something but not know that anyone was there. He could go back to what he had been doing before Harry appeared and Harry would let him be, he would turn around and go back the same path he had come through.

But Malfoy was still staring, eyes sharp and unmoving from Harry's form. Harry was sure that he wouldn't be able to escape. Malfoy knew.

"Potter, don't even attempt to make a fool out of the two of us. I know you're there and you know that I am aware of that, so let's skip that whole thing."

Harry snorted, amused at Malfoy's words and bored tone. He should have known that if there was anyone who would recognize the seemingly empty space as Harry it would be Malfoy. And there was no one who would make less of a fuss about seeing the Harry Potter than Malfoy.

He lifted the cloak and stepped out from underneath it, gripping the fabric tightly in front of him between his two hands. Malfoy was back to staring out the window, not paying him any more attention than he already had.

"Can you even see anything out there?"

"It's not about seeing anything outside. It's about not looking at anything inside."

Harry stood silent, not knowing how to answer him. Maybe he should leave, Malfoy seemed to be enjoying some alone time, after all. He shuffled on his feet, wondering if he should say something or leave quietly. In the end, Malfoy took the decision for him.

"Sit down, Potter. You're making me uneasy."

"Oh, alright."

He sat down carefully in front of Malfoy, on the other side of the window, their feet almost touching in the middle. He dropped his cloak next to him and turned to look out the window. He couldn't see anything beyond a few trees that looked darker and more menacing than they did in daylight. The window was a little broken at the bottom, a sliver of cold air getting inside through it and falling upon Harry's neck.

"What are you doing on a dark corridor in the middle of the night, anyway?"

"What makes you think I will tell you that?"

"Right."

There was a pause, heavy silence almost suffocating them. Then, Malfoy sighed.

"I wanted to be alone."

"Oh." Harry debated if he should get up and leave him alone after all, but Malfoy had been the one to tell him to sit down.

"Pansy and Blaise won't leave me alone. They're scared that I'm going to isolate myself like I did 6th year."

Harry's head shot up, eyes jumping to Malfoy at the mention of 6th year. Malfoy turned to look at him, an annoyed expression on his face.

"Not you too, Potter. It's bad enough that everyone who sees me alone thinks that I'm plotting something, I don't need the Golden Boy to feed into that." He rolled his eyes and turned back to the window.

"It's not that I think you're plotting something, Malfoy."

"Yeah, sure."

"I'm serious. I mean, who would you be planning for anyway?"

When Malfoy didn't answer, Harry felt a sudden urge to keep talking and make sure that Malfoy understood that he wasn't suspicious of him. Not this time.

"Voldemort is dead," he started. Malfoy flinched subtly at the name and Harry pretended he hadn't noticed. "And I doubt you're working for some other newly risen Dark Lord."

"You never know," Malfoy smirked at him.

"Is there a new Dark Lord I should vanquish then?"

"Maybe I am the new Dark Lord you should fear."

"You would be a shite Dark Lord, Malfoy," Harry laughed.

Malfoy glared at him right away.

"I'm quite offended by that, Potter. I would be a great Dark Lord. I would spread fear on Earth and make everyone do as I say. Everyone would quiver before me."

"Sure, Malfoy, whatever you say."

They looked out the window at the darkness outside in silence. It was weird to talk with Malfoy as if they hadn't been on different sides of a war mere months ago. It was weird to sit with him in a dark corridor in the middle of the night and find himself relaxed.

He shifted a little, momentarily forgetting about his bruises and wincing as he leaned against the wall. He tried to conceal it, but Malfoy seemed to have noticed, a raised eyebrow aimed at him.

"Everything alright there, Potter?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth and moved away from the wall again.

Malfoy didn't seem to believe him, but he also didn't seem to care enough to pray for answers and explanations.

"Haven't seen you in class for a few days," he said. "Tired of your devoted fans?"

"I wish that was the problem."

"Then what is the problem?"

Harry stared at Malfoy, considering if he should tell him or not. On the one hand, it was Malfoy. Malfoy who always made fun of him, Malfoy who didn't like him and always had a strong opinion in every situation, opinions that usually diverged from Harry's. But, it was also Malfoy who knew nothing about the situation and was sitting alone in a dark corridor in the middle of the night.

"You look like you're having a battle with yourself, Potter, do you miss fighting that much?"

That was an easy enough question to answer. And Harry did appreciate the opportunity to change the subject.

"No, I do not. If I have to fight any more battles, it will be too soon."

"Cheers to that," Malfoy nodded.

Harry stared at Malfoy's profile. He looked as tired as Harry felt, hair down and messier than Harry had ever seen it, lips downcast into a frown. The idea of telling him what had happened with him seemed more plausible than Harry ever thought possible. But he had been advised to keep it under wraps, in fear of it getting out to the public and there being a worrying amount of articles about it. And more danger for him. Hermione had seemed sure that if anyone knew that it was a curse with 'Harry Potter's true love'

written all over it, there would be people who would try to prove they were it at all costs.

"I think it's your turn to tell me what you're doing in a dark corridor in the middle of the night, Potter."

"Fair is fair," Harry sighed. "I missed the castle. I haven't left the tower in days and I felt like I would go crazy if I stayed in there until… well, until I'll be fit to walk around."

Malfoy's gaze was curious, likely wanting to ask what was going on with him again. He didn't ask though, he nodded in surprising understanding and let Harry have his silence.

"I was going to the Astronomy tower at first," Harry blurted out.

Malfoy tensed up, shoulders squaring and jaw set, eyes resolutely on the trees.

"I couldn't do it," he continued. "It's too hard being there."

Malfoy licked his lips and spared a glance in Harry's direction.

"I know what you mean."

And Harry knew that if there was anyone who understood his feelings towards that night, it was Malfoy. As weird as it was to have something in common with Malfoy and to be understood by him.

"I should go back to the tower," Harry said. "Before anyone wakes up and wonders where I am."

Malfoy hummed, a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat that told Harry nothing about how he felt about the little time they spent in each other's company.

Without receiving an answer from Malfoy, Harry got up, mindful of his bruises this time, and looked out the window one last time before turning his back and walking down the corridor.

"Potter," Malfoy called. "Didn't you forget something?"

Frowning, Harry turned back to look at Malfoy. He was still sitting in the same place where he had been before, except this time, his eyes were on Harry and not on the outside. In his hands was Harry's invisibility cloak.

Harry quickly shuffled back to Malfoy, hand reaching out to grab the cloak, half expecting Malfoy to pull away and taunt him a little. But he didn't. He let Harry grasp the cloak and pull it to himself. Their fingers brushed in the process and Harry stumbled backwards ready to see a bruise blooming on his skin.

But there was nothing there. Nothing new at least.

Malfoy was looking bemusedly at him and Harry was staring at his fingers in surprise.

They hadn't bruised.

But, then again, it had been a very light touch, barely anything. It had been a simple brush, perhaps he had even imagined it. It was late, everything was dark and he was tired. It had surely been a trick his mind was playing, so hyperaware and scared of touching as of late.

"Goodnight, Malfoy."

Harry didn't wait for a reply and left the corridor quickly, throwing the cloak over himself and almost running to the safety of the Gryffindor tower.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione had her head buried in a book, five more scattered around her. Her fingers were stained with ink and her hair was messier than usual. A frown was on her face, but she resolutely didn't look up; not when a few second years started playing Exploding Snap, not when Seamus started telling a story in a loud tone, not when a few fourth years started giggling as they gossiped on the couch.

Ron was next to her, head resting on an open book and some drool starting to pool at the corner of his mouth. He didn't look like he would be waking up anytime soon.

The three of them had been sitting at the table since Ron and Hermione had come up from dinner, reading books and parchments, taking notes and coming up with theories. Now, it was dark outside and most people had already climbed the stairs to the dorms.

They weren't any closer to finding anything.

"Maybe we should get some sleep," Harry said, thumbing over the words 'old curse' on the book he had been trying to pay attention to.

"No, we should keep going for a little longer. We haven't found anything concrete yet."

"Hermione, we're all tired. We won't find anything in this state."

She sighed tiredly. Her elbows came up to rest on the table and she buried her face in her hands.

"We'll find something soon enough," he tried to reassure her as much as he tried to reassure himself.

"We will." Her voice wasn't quite sure and there was doubt in her eyes, but, tonight, her words were enough for Harry.

She reached out, hand outstretched to pat his, and the two of them froze. Her hand stopped midair and he retreated his own slowly from the table, placing it on his lap.

"I'm sorry," she started.

"Don't worry about it. I forget too."

She smiled at him, a small smile that was more concerned than reassuring. Then, she closed her book, golden letters spelling 'Love Spells' shinning in the dim light of the common room.

"Let's go to sleep. We'll pick this up again tomorrow."

Harry watched as she woke up Ron. She put a hand on his hair and run it through it slowly, her thumb catching on his forehead sometimes. She leaned down to whisper in his ear when he groaned sleepily and patted his back softly before stretching up again.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, putting all her books and parchments in a neat pile at the end of the table.

Harry nodded at her and sent a smile her way, meaning to reassure her that he was alright and would be alright.

Ron was rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands, yawning as he pushed the book he had been sleeping on to the centre of the table.

"I can't even look at words anymore," he mumbled.

Harry laughed and almost reached out to clap him over the shoulder, the reality of his situation hit him before he could.

"I'm going to bed." Ron got up from his seat. "You coming?"

"In a bit."

Ron grinned at him and didn't bother with closing the book before climbing the stairs to the dorm.

Harry still had his book in front of him, he pretended to scan the pages and take notes while he waited for the common room to empty. When there were only three fifth-years standing there, he closed the book and discarded the parchment full of the useless doodles he had made to pass time and went upstairs.

The dorm was quiet apart from the usual snores of the guys he shared with. Seamus was the loudest, but Ron was close on his heels. Dean shifted on his bed, turning to face the door as Harry entered and he stopped in his tracks as not to wake anyone. He tiptoed to his bed, opening the trucks and getting his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map from it.

Then, in the same careful manner as he had come in, he left the room again.

He shoved the map in his pocket and the cloak underneath his jumper and descended the stairs to the common room again. The fifth years were still sitting on the couch when he came down again and they looked up at him as he appeared.

"I thought you had gone to sleep," one of them said.

"Nah," Harry chuckled. "I actually think I'm going to get something from the kitchens. I'm really fancying a late-night snack, right now."

The three of them stared at him curiously and Harry knew that now it wasn't just because he was Harry Potter who had defeated Voldemort, now it was also because he had been skipping class and not going down to the Great Hall in over a week.

Harry ignored their looks and left the common room.

***

The kitchens were warmer than the rest of the castle. The heat a welcomed change from the shivering cool of the corridors as Harry entered. House-elves were fusing about, doing Harry wasn't even sure what. Some stopped to stare at him as they noticed his entrance.

"Harry Potter," one of them said, bowing down so low he almost kissed his own feet.

"I was wondering if you had any snacks I could have?" He asked awkwardly.

"Of course, Harry Potter. Anything Harry Potter wants," another one said excitedly, his pointy ears fluttering.

Harry smiled at them, hand raising to rub the back of his neck. This was too much attention.

He hadn't come to the kitchens this year yet. He had known that the elves were probably going to throw a figurative party around him if he appeared, but thinking they were going to it hadn't exactly prepared him for all the attention he was receiving.

One of the elves gestured for Harry to follow her and led him to an adjacent room. One with a table, snacks and a blond boy sitting on one of the chairs.

Malfoy raised his eyes from his cup of steaming liquid and stared at them as they entered. He sighed when he looked at Harry as if it annoyed him to look at him.

"So we meet again in the middle of the night, Potter," Malfoy said. "Cheers to being insomniacs."

"Then it's not just wanting to be alone." Harry pulled back one of the chairs to sit, his back protesting as he rested it against the chair.

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Wasn't about to spill everything to you the first time we saw each other, was I?"

"Is it more acceptable to spill everything on the second time then?"

"My insomnia is hardly new, Potter. Anyone with a brain could conjure that I probably don't have the best sleeping schedule. No one does really."

"Yeah, well, we all saw some pretty messed up things over the last years."

"That we did," Malfoy looked at him.

He blew on his cup to cool down whatever it was that he was drinking and took a sip, a small brown drop catching on his top lip.

"Drinking coffee seems hardly like a solution to your problem, Malfoy."

Malfoy stared at him with a contemplative expression. Eyes fixed on Harry as he grabbed a napkin and dabbed at his mouth.

"It's not about falling asleep, Potter. It's about staying awake."

"Why are you always so cryptic?"

Malfoy shrugged. "It's part of my charm."

"I wouldn't exactly call it charm, but whatever you want, Malfoy."

Malfoy rolled his eyes at him, but he didn't seem to mind the conversation and the remarks. He seemed to be having fun with it if the small upward curve of his lips was anything to go by.

They stayed in silence for a while, Malfoy sipping his coffee and Harry reaching out to grab a few snacks from the middle of the table, mindful of his bruises.

It felt surreal to be sharing late-night snacks with Malfoy in the kitchens while having a civilized, albeit slightly strained, conversation with him. They were so different, had always been, and they had never managed to get along. But now, sitting in front of Malfoy with snacks in front of them, seeing Malfoy sip his coffee because he didn't want to sleep and having an actual conversation with him, it seemed like they were two different people entirely. Two different people who hadn't had a rivalry and a war between them, two different people who could actually get along.

"Isn't it weird?" He ended up asking.

"Your inability to be eloquent? Yes, Potter, it is quite weird, you should fix it."

"Asshole," Harry rolled his eyes amused. "I meant the two of us, here in the middle of the night, talking as if we're friends."

"Friends isn't the word I would use."

And of course, Harry wouldn't call them friends either, he just meant that they were being more friendly toward each other than they had ever been before.

"You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do know." He sipped his coffee again, making Harry wait for an answer. "I think we both grew up, wouldn't you say."

"A bit hard not to."

"Indeed. We grew up, we learned that school rivalries are nothing when there are things that are so much bigger and dangerous. And after being involved in those things, school rivalries sound quite silly."

Harry didn't answer. Malfoy was right, they had had to grow up when faced with Voldemort, war, losing loved ones and seeing everything they had known crumble around them. They had been in opposites sides, but there were things that were universal. The suffering and fear were two of them.

"For what it's worth, I don't exactly hate you," Harry decided to say.

Malfoy chuckled, shaking his head and putting down his now empty cup.

"You're not so bad yourself, Potter."

And that had to be some high praise coming from Malfoy. More than Harry ever thought he would get from him, more than he ever thought he wanted to hear from him. Strangely, it didn't feel entirely weird to hear it, it felt heartwarming. It made leaving the past behind feel solid between them.

The silence that followed wasn't as harsh as the others had been. This one felt lighter, felt like it was there simply because they didn't know each other enough to break it and not because they weren't supposed to be talking to each other. This was the kind of silence Harry didn't mind having with Malfoy.

"Potter," he called. "Did you hit your shoulder?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at the question. Then, Malfoy pointed at his right shoulder and Harry twisted his head to look. Despite the angle, it was impossible not to notice the dark purple bruise that marked the skin there. Neville had pulled him back when they were leaving the dorm the day before to go into the common room and the bruise had appeared right away.

Harry considered telling him again. He didn't know why but he felt compelled to just talk about it, tell someone that didn't know already. Or maybe it was just Malfoy who was looking at him with curiosity in his eyes and tousled hair, drinking coffee in the kitchens in the middle of the night because he has insomnia and doesn't want to go to sleep. Maybe it was just him that Harry wanted to talk to.

"I-" he hesitated. "Yeah, I jammed it against the door."

"How clumsy of you, Potter," he said.

He seemed a little suspicious, but not enough to question him.

"And you're still not going to class either." Definitely suspicious then.

"It's complicated."

"Clearly."

Harry knew that Malfoy wasn't about to outright ask him what was going on, as suspicious as he was that something weird must be happening. He would wait for Harry to talk, would say things to prompt any confessions that Harry wanted to make, but not demand anything.

"I better go back to the dungeons," Malfoy said, getting up from his chair.

He was elegant about it. He dabbed at his already clean lips with the napkin in front of him, pushed the chair back without making any noise and got up with a straight back.

"I'll see you at some point, Potter."

"You will."

***

The next time he saw Malfoy was actually in daylight, for once. It was Saturday afternoon and the sun was bright despite the cold outside. Most people were either outside enjoying the cool sunshine or at Hogsmeade. Because of that, Harry had deemed it safe enough to leave the tower for once and go to the library, figuring that no one would try to touch him there.

Ron and Hermione had gone on a date. Well, they hadn't wanted to call it a date to Harry's face since Hermione seemed convinced that going on a date when they could be helping with research was quite selfish. Harry was just glad that Ron had managed to convince her that they would be able to help much more if they took some time to unwind and that going to Hogsmeade was a great way to unwind. It's not like one afternoon would lower their chances of finding anything to help Harry by much if anything.

Now, Harry was sitting alone at one of the tables. He had made the effort to grab some books about curses, had even brought some of the ones McGonaggal had provided them, but he wasn't exactly paying attention to them. He could see a Ravenclaw boy flying about in the courtyard through one of the windows and he could only feel strong envy towards him. This damn curse had taken his freedom, Hogwarts, the ability to be with his friends normally and quidditch from him. He wanted all of it back.

"Why are you in the library on this fine Saturday afternoon, Potter?"

He tore his gaze away from the window and found Malfoy on the other side of the table, three books in his hands, looking down at him.

"I'm studying."

Malfoy raised an unimpressed eyebrow and looked down at the books Harry had displayed in front of him. That was when Harry realized his mistake. None of the books was about things that were in the curriculum.

"Studying for what exactly?"

"Knowledge. I was just interested."

"I'm sure you were."

If Malfoy had been suspicious before, he was more than suspicious now. He was sure that something was going on with Harry that was making him skip classes and meals in the Great Hall and that might be related to his bruises.

Malfoy's books fell to the table with a dull sound and Harry buried his face in his crossed arms when he grabbed one of the books Harry had been reading. He didn't lift his head to see Malfoy's expression as he read the title or as he thumbed through the pages.

"Not the kind of topic I would expect you to be interested in," was the first time he said.

He was still not going to ask for answers and Harry wanted to shake him and make him demand them, that way he would have a better excuse to spill everything than just his crazy want to do it.

"People can surprise you," he said weekly, raising his head.

Malfoy's eyes were narrowed. He still had the book in his hands, eyes switching between reading some passages and staring at Harry. His expression getting increasingly more resolute as his eyes did that dance.

He closed the book and put it down on the table. Harry thought he was going to leave and not say anything about it anymore. He didn't know if he wanted that to happen or not. On the one hand, it would mean that he wouldn't feel the pressure of Malfoy's eyes anymore and would be able to relax again and go back to pretending like he was reading anything. But then he knew that if he was ever alone with Malfoy again, he would still want to tell him about all of it.

But Malfoy didn't leave. He pulled out a chair and sat in front of Harry, staring at him in silence for a while before leaning over the table and meeting Harry's eyes without much effort.

"What's going on, Potter?"

There it was. The question Harry had been waiting for to tell Malfoy everything. He wanted to tell him everything and he couldn't even fully comprehend why himself.

"I think you already know," he settled for saying.

"I'd still like for you to tell me."

Harry licked his lips and avoided Malfoy's eyes.

"I've been cursed."

Malfoy nodded and waited for him to continue talking.

"Madam Pomfrey and the professors think it was the last time we went to Hogsmeade. They don't think any student could have been so successful at a powerful dark curse."

"And what exactly is this dark curse?"

Harry opened his mouth but opted for showing him instead of just telling him. In for a little, in for a lot. He sighed and pulled his sleeves up, exposing the black and blue bruises that were littering his arm, from wrist to elbow and disappearing beneath the bundled up sleeve at his bicep. The bruises from his last days of classes hadn't faded yet and, even while being so careful, there were some new ones.

"Merlin, Potter, what the hell is that curse?"

Malfoy looked positively paler than he had always been. Eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in surprise. He reached a hand as if to touch and Harry flinched so violently that it startled the two of them.

"It happens when someone touches me," he rushed out to justify. "The curse… it basically makes bruises appear when anyone who isn't my true love touches me. True Love Touch was what they called it."

Malfoy retreated his hand, that had been hanging in the air until now, and cradled it to his chest as if he had been the one about to be bruised.

"That's why you haven't been going to class," he wasn't asking, he was weaving the threads together in his head and understanding what was happening with Harry.

"I've been staying confined to the tower. It's easier to avoid any contact, accidental or not, with people that way."

"Trouble really likes you, doesn't it?"

And that joking tone was so far from what Harry had ever expected from Malfoy, it almost seemed like he had imagined it. Harry had never heard that tone coming from Malfoy, much less aimed at him.

"I wish it didn't," he ended up saying.

"I don't think you would know how to deal with a normal life."

It was probably true. Harry was so used to having a target on his back, to researching all sorts of things - though Hermione did most of that part - and constantly looking behind his back as if he was going to be attacked at every second, that he most likely would be very put off by a 'normal' year.

Still, it would have been nice to be bored and spend some time with his friends without being cursed and consequentially being locked up in a tower as if he were a damsel in distress.

"Would you like to trade? I'd rather like a normal life."

Malfoy's face closed off, the playful expression fading into a cold one that left Harry feeling lost and strangely resentful.

"My life is far from normal, Potter," Malfoy's voice sounded like it did years ago, before their late-night conversations and weird understanding of each other.

Harry wasn't sure how what he had said that had made the mood sour so quickly, but he wanted to not have said it. He wanted Malfoy to have that open, amused expression on his face again, he wanted him to keep talking to Harry and let him talk to him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't want to offend you."

Malfoy looked up at him, eyes narrowing as he took on Harry's face and tried to read him. Harry was sure that it wouldn't be too hard, he was terrible at concealing how he felt, after all.

"You don't understand, do you?"

"Understand what?"

"Why my life isn't the so-called normal."

"I-"

"I'm a Death Eater, Potter. My whole family is. I used to walk on money and leave proud footsteps behind me, but that doesn't happen anymore. Now, I try to hide in the shadows as much as possible and I don't want anyone to even look at me. I don't like it when people look at me for I know that there's nothing good going through their heads."

Harry hadn't considered it. He guessed that one of the things that came with being so involved in one side of the war, was how it made it hard to see the other side as anything other than the enemy. It made it hard to think that things could be not as black and white as they seem and that people who were on the other side also suffered, kept suffering after the war.

And some of them did deserve, Harry could be a good person and still think that. But there were people who maybe were victims too, Harry sometimes failed to see that. Which did not mean that Malfoy didn't deserve some backlash for what he had done during the war. He might be only eighteen, but he still made some decisions and did certain things that couldn't be overlooked.

"I didn't think of that…"

"I know," Malfoy said.

He pulled back his chair and got up, grabbing his books and leaving Harry's on the table. Before he left, he turned around and gave Harry a small, closed-off smile.

"Good luck with your curse, Potter."

He wasn't mad and that was a relief for Harry who found himself enjoying his conversations with Malfoy more and more.

"I'll need it," he said and watched as Malfoy left the library.


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy was laying down on the grass when Harry came outside before supper.

It had been hard to convince Ron and Hermione to let him leave the tower at a time when people were awake and moving around the castle. He had almost given up on it, Hermione had been adamant about having him stay in the common room at all costs and Ron had looked at him with such a concerned gaze that it had almost pinned Harry to the sofa.

He had had to bring up the fact that he hadn't been outside and gotten some fresh air in way too long, that he needed to leave the tower and that he was starting to feel like a prisoner. His friends still hesitated but ended up letting him go when he promised he would avoid all the busy corridors and would just go outside and avoid everyone.

Of course, in a weird turn of events, avoiding everyone didn't include Malfoy.

Harry walked up to Malfoy, casting a shadow over him and making him open his eyes with an annoyed expression.

"Get away from the Sun, Potter," he said.

"Hello to you too," Harry grinned and moved to sit next to him.

"Shouldn't you be in your confinement, princess?"

It wasn't the first time that Malfoy had made the princess joke. He liked to make fun of Harry by saying he was like the damsel in distress in every fairytale who was waiting for the love of her life to save her from eternal danger.

"I was let out of an hour or so."

"How daring."

"What are you doing out here anyway?" Harry asked, laying back on the ground.

"It's a beautiful day to enjoy some rays of sunshine."

"Sure, I believe that."

Malfoy sighed and Harry heard the rustling his robes made as he shifted next to him.

"I wanted to get away from the castle for a while. It was getting suffocating. Either Pansy and Blaise are hanging off my arm or someone is sending glares my way and I needed a time out."

"I know what you mean. I'm getting tired of looking at the same walls all the time."

"I would be too if I had to look at Gryffindor walls for more than five minutes."

"How do you even know what Gryffindor walls look like? You never saw them."

"I don't need to see them to know that they are horrible. Gryffindors aren't known for their impeccable taste." Malfoy turned his head to give him a pointed look.

"You're funny, Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes.

"One of my many qualities."

It was still weird to joke around with Malfoy. It was weird to talk to him so naturally and laugh with him. After everything that had happened between them over the years, having this normalcy with him that resembled the starts of friendship was weird. But it wasn't unwelcome and that was what surprised Harry the most.

"I asked my mother to send me some book from our library and I've been reading some," Malfoy started. "They're about curses. If you want, I can lend you the ones I'm not reading and you and your little friends can see if they have anything of interest."

There was still a condescending tone to Malfoy's voice in the way he was calling Ron and Hermione his 'little friends' but Harry knew that he was saying it in a more self-preservation way. He was already showing that he cared by asking his mother for the books, by reading them and offering to lend him. Harry knew that Malfoy still liked to hide beneath the mask of a perfectly unbothered expression, but what mattered was under that mask and Harry was learning how to see that.

"I think that'd be great. We haven't been making much progress," Harry said. "Thank you, Malfoy."

Malfoy shrugged, still determined not to show anything that he was feeling.

"I'll give them to you tonight," Malfoy said, getting up.

"How do you know you'll see me tonight?"

"Because we are terrible at staying in bed all night. And because you always seem to find me," another pointed look aimed at him. "So, find me, Potter."

He turned and left without saying anything else, without waiting for a confirmation that Harry would meet him that night. He didn't need a confirmation though, Harry knew without an inkling of doubt, that the moment Malfoy had said to find him he had made up his mind. Harry would find him that night and he knew that it wasn't only for the books.

***

McGonagall was in the common room when Harry got there. She was standing next to the table where Ron and Hermione were sitting, pointing at a book that was opened in front of them. Hermione was nodding along to what she was saying, jotting down notes on the parchment in front of her and Ron was attempting to read the book from the other side.

"Hello," he said, sitting down on the side of the table where there wasn't anyone.

"Potter, about time you appeared." McGonagall peered at him over her glasses. "I thought you were supposed to stay in the tower."

"I just went for a walk," he mumbled, feeling like he was 11 and being scolded by her again.

"Professor McGonagall thinks she found something to help you, Harry," Hermione said softly. "It's an old potion."

"Yes. I have found a potion in my researches that is known to break curses much like the one you've been carrying."

"That's great!" Harry said, eager to be able to go out whenever he felt like it and go back to eating in the Great Hall and all the normal things he had had to stop doing.

"I still need to run it through Professor Slughorn and then we have to wait until the potion is complete, but we have something," McGonagall reassured him.

Harry grinned and leaned back on his chair. After, a month of staying in the tower and not being able to touch anyone, he was more than ready to go back to normal, go back outside and go back to hugging his friends and being playful with his mates without fearing all the bruises that would come with any touch.

"I will tell you once things are ready. In the meantime," McGonagall looked pointedly at him. "Stay in the tower, Potter. I don't think you want to be hurt more than you need to."

She had a serious expression on her face and Harry wanted to be annoyed that she was ordering him to stay confined, but there were some lines of worry on her face that told him that part of the reason, probably the biggest part of the reason, she was doing all of this and telling him not to go anywhere was because she was worried about him and what could possibly happen if he went out and interacted with people.

"I will," he told her, purposefully ignoring that he would be leaving the tower in just a few hours to meet up with Malfoy.

Technically, he didn't need the books that Malfoy had gotten for him anymore, but he still had to meet up with him to let him know that. He couldn't just let Malfoy stranded and waiting for him the whole night with the books he had kindly gotten for Harry. Kindly. A word he never thought he would apply to Malfoy, but that was what Malfoy had been, kind enough to ask his mother for books for Harry.

McGonagall grabbed her book and left with one more pointed look in Harry's direction. Hermione reached out a hand and put it on the table near Harry's arm, not touching him but showing that if she could, she would give his arm a supportive squeeze. Soon, they wouldn't have to hold back.

"I'm glad things will go back to normal soon," she said.

"Yeah, I was getting tired of being here all the time. I even miss class."

Ron snorted and Hermione smiled.

"Now that's something I didn't expect to hear. Who would have thought that Harry Potter would miss not going to class."

"Miracles do happen," Harry shrugged.

"I personally don't think that I would ever miss classes," Ron grinned when Hermione glared at him. "I'm kidding, Mione, don't worry."

"You better. Classes are important and they give you knowledge that's going to be useful to you at some point in your life. Missing a whole year of school last year was more than enough."

"You're right," Ron reached out to move a curl from her face. "You're completely right."

"I think we don't need to research anything tonight then," Harry smiled, stretching his arms above his head.

"I would still like to look over some things before you take the potion, Harry. However, even if we don't do any research on this tonight, we still have to study. Not going to class makes it even more important to study on your own and I want to make sure that you know the things we've been learning before you go back and feel overwhelmed by everything."

Harry groaned, playing the part of the annoyed friend who didn't want to study. He didn't want to study, he'd rather spend his night doing anything else, but this was Hermione, who always worried about him and who was always there for him. Hermione who wanted to make sure that he knew enough about everything so that he wasn't lost when he went back to class. And he couldn't say no to Hermione after she did so much for him, not only now but over the years.

"We can start with Defence maybe?" Harry suggested, thinking that spending a night studying was worth it to thank Hermione for everything.

Ron rested his head on the table and groaned, not happy with the idea.

"Why, mate? Why?" He poked Harry's shoulder and turned to his book, neither of them remembering the curse for a second.

***

Harry walked down the stairs of the castle, the cold touching his skin through the clothes. His fingers were freezing where they were holding the Marauders' map in front of him, his eyes following the line to the name _Draco Malfoy_.

Malfoy was on the first floor and Harry had a feeling that he had chosen that place just to be an inconvenience and make Harry climb down all the stairs from the tower. It seemed like the kind of thing that Malfoy would do, make sure that Harry knew that they weren't friends and that he wouldn't make his life easy at all.

He hurried down the stairs, not wanting to make Malfoy wait too much in fear that the other boy would think he wasn't going to show up. When Harry hopped down the last step, he mumbled the words to erase the map from the parchment and closed it, putting it inside his pocket.

Malfoy was sitting on the floor at the end of the corridor, half-hidden in the shadows. Harry walked slowly up to him, steps careful and silent as not to be heard. He still didn't know how last time Malfoy had been able to know he was there when he was being careful.

Harry hadn't given up on startling him, though.

This time, he was even more careful with his steps. He walked on the tip of his toes and held his breath for as long as he could, his whole body tense with the effort to make no noise at all.

His efforts were rewarded when Malfoy didn't look up or make any remarks. If he had noticed Harry, he would have said something.

Harry bent down slightly, holding the cloak close to him as not to let it touch Malfoy in any way, and put his face close to Malfoy's ear. Malfoy's eyebrows furrowed and, before he could turn to look, Harry intervened.

"Hello, Malfoy," he whispered.

Malfoy jumped, eyes widening in surprise and a squeal leaving his throat. Harry pushed the cloak off of himself and laughed louder than he should have considering it was the middle of the night and they weren't supposed to be out of their common rooms.

"You're not funny, Potter," Malfoy grumbled, a glare set on Harry.

He dusted off his pants and sat back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest to make sure Harry knew he was mad at him. Harry sat next to him, still chuckling, and put the cloak on the floor next to him.

"It was pretty funny."

"Annoying. That's what it was."

Harry grinned at him and noticed the three books that were stacked on a pile on Malfoy's other side. He had actually brought them then. Malfoy had actually asked his mother for books so that he could help Harry out and he was bringing them to him. Harry had believed when he said he would be bringing them, but after everything that had happened between them through the years, it was good to have in front of him the confirmation of how much Malfoy had changed.

"Malfoy," he started. "I don't think I will need the books."

Malfoy frowned and Harry took a moment to think that maybe that hadn't been the best way to start the conversation. Malfoy was doing something nice for him and Harry was telling him that he wouldn't need it.

"I mean," he hurried to say, desperate to make sure that Malfoy didn't misunderstand how grateful and happy Harry was that he was willing to help out. "McGonagall was in the common room when I came inside a few hours ago. They found a way to end the curse."

"Oh," Draco breathed out. "I'm glad then. That they found something."

"Thank you for helping me, though," Harry said.

"I didn't exactly help," Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, but you were going to," he shrugged. "And, anyway, you did help. You kept me company when I couldn't sleep."

"Because neither of us knows how to fall asleep at night and you always seem to find me."

"Why are you trying to find justifications for all of it?"

Malfoy stayed in silence and Harry turned his face to look at him. His expression was closed off yet pensive. He seemed to be thinking about Harry's question and how to answer it, which was more than Harry thought he would do. He had thought that Malfoy would simply brush it off and make a snarky comment, but it wasn't happening.

"I think," Malfoy started. "I think that I'm scared."

Harry blinked, startled at the candid admission. He hadn't expected Malfoy to be so truthful with him, to open up in that way and say something that was private and personal. Malfoy opening up to Harry seemed like an impossibility, implausible. But here they were, in a dark corridor, in the middle of the night and Malfoy was telling Harry that he was scared.

"Scared of what?" Harry's voice was soft, softer than he had ever used when talking to Malfoy, softer than he had ever thought he would use with Malfoy.

"Scared that it will make me vulnerable," Malfoy hesitated, but he had already started talking so there was no going back. "If I hide everything I'm thinking and feeling, then it will be easier to pretend those things were never there and it will be harder to get hurt."

"I don't want you to hide from me."

"Sometimes hiding is just easier. And safer."

And Malfoy was right. Hiding was easier and safer, but that didn't mean it was the best option. It didn't mean there wasn't something amazing about opening up to someone and letting them know what's inside of you. Harry had some trouble doing it too, but something about this Malfoy that was sitting next to him and that had been talking to him for weeks, made him want to hear everything he had to say and open up in return.

"I think that opening up is hard, but sometimes it's worth it. Sometimes letting yourself be known and letting other people know you is the best thing."

"I do think I want to talk," Malfoy said, his eyes meeting Harry's. "But my first reflex will always be to keep things inside."

"Maybe it's time to change that."

"Maybe it is."

There was a beat of silence. Malfoy was looking at Harry, his eyes travelling all over his face, trying to assess if telling Harry what he had been keeping inside was the best decision to make. Harry tried to keep his expression as open as possible, to keep his eyes on Malfoy and let him know that he wouldn't judge him, that he would be there to listen to what he had to say.

Malfoy licked his lips and nodded once to himself before starting, "The truth is that I was very curious at first. You had disappeared from the castle and no one seemed to know exactly why, and then I saw you that first night and I was even more curious. Because why would you be hiding away during the day and leaving all your adoring fans heartbroken but then come out in the middle of the night."

Harry rolled his eyes at the 'adoring fans' comment but didn't interrupt. He figured that talking this openly about himself was already taking a toll on Malfoy, he wouldn't forbid him from making any snide comments.

"And then I found out what was wrong with you. One of the things that's wrong with you, anyway," he smiled teasingly. "And I guess, I don't know. I was just worried. And I did want to help you but I didn't know how and that pained me."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Harry shook his head, shifting so he was sitting closer to Malfoy. "No one knew how to help me. It was just a shit situation."

"I did the only thing I could do," Malfoy ignored him. "I wrote to my mother, hoping that she had some answers. She comes from an old family, maybe she knew something and, if she didn't, I asked for any books that she thought might help."

Harry felt warm. Every word that Malfoy said was going directly into his heart and exploding into tiny flames, setting him on fire from the inside out. He turned so he was looking directly at Malfoy and smiled at him.

"Thank you," he stared directly into Malfoy's eyes, hoping to convey everything he was feeling into that one stare. "It means a lot to me that you care."

Malfoy licked his lips and averted his eyes for a second, before turning them back to Harry, a determined flicker in them.

"I do care. I never thought I would, but I do care about you, Potter… Harry. I do care."

Harry gulped, his eyes never straying from Malfoy and his breath faltering in his throat. He wanted to say something, make sure that Malfoy knew that everything he was saying meant the world to Harry, make sure Malfoy knew that Harry cared about him too.

He wasn't sure how to articulate it, though. He didn't know how to put into words everything he wanted to say and everything he wanted Malfoy to know. He had never been quite good with words and with saying what he meant, not like Malfoy deserved him to be.

Malfoy was looking apprehensively at him and Harry was being stupid. He couldn't stay silent and let Malfoy worry that he had said something wrong, he couldn't let him feel like that after the other boy had been so honest with him. He had to say something, do something.

Harry smiled at him. A reassurance in itself but not enough. Never enough.

He shuffled even closer and Malfoy stared down at the diminishing space between them, the furrow between his eyebrows was the only thing that showed his confusion. Harry grinned and moved his hand, touching Malfoy's sleeve with his index finger.

"You know what I would do if I wasn't cursed?" Harry asked at last.

Malfoy shook his head.

"I would touch you. That's the thing I want to do the most. I would touch without fear of bruising my fingers. And I would kiss you without thinking that it would bruise my lips," he said. "I don't think I would mind a few bruises, to be completely honest."

"Don't be an idiot, Potter. You aren't getting injured when you don't have to."

"I think I do have to." His finger went walked along Malfoy's arm, not quite touching it, but climbing the length of the large sleeve. "I've been injured before because of this curse and it was just annoying. Getting injured after I touch you… That would be completely worth it."

"You're completely out of your mind," Malfoy shook his head, but there was laughter in his eyes and Harry knew he wouldn't be pushed away.

Harry met his eyes and smiled at him before finally, finally, letting his finger touch skin. His placed the pad of his index on the skin where Malfoy's shoulder met his neck and felt his breath get stuck in his throat. It had been so long since he had freely touched anyone, he felt like his brain was going to snap if he didn't continue feeling skin on his.

He rested his whole hand on Malfoy's shoulder and shifted closer, felt his cheek warming up with Malfoy's breathing. He turned his head slowly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. Malfoy's eyes were dark silver in the shadowy corridor, intense as they stayed connected to Harry's.

"Draco, I'm going to kiss you now."

"Do it, Potter."

And Harry did. He took on the challenge whispered against his lips and sighed when they met Malfoy's. It was everything he had been waiting for, everything he had wanted. It was all the touches he had been missing, it was all the intensity of life he had missed brought back to him. Malfoy was soft under him and Harry didn't think of the curse as he touched him everywhere he could. As he touches his back and his arms and his neck. He didn't think of anything except Malfoy, Draco, kissing him and never stopping.

Malfoy's hands had been on his lap the whole time, he had kept them there as he kissed Harry back. But now he raised them, he clutched at harry's robes with them at first, bringing him closer and closer until there was practically no space between them. When he moved again, he held the back of Harry's neck with his right hand and kissed him even harder.

And then it ended. The kiss stopped and Malfoy jumped away from Harry, leaving him dazed and wondering what had happened, how everything had shattered so quickly.

"I know you said you didn't mind the bruises but… I just held your neck. That must have been painful."

"What?"

"Your neck. I touched your neck."

Harry blinked, then raised his hand to touch his neck and shook his head at Malfoy.

"Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

Malfoy didn't seem to believe him, so he patted the floor next to himself.

"Come back here, Draco."

Draco seemed thorn between worrying that he had hurt Harry and wanting to go back to what they had been doing before. Harry hoped that he chose the second option.

He sighed and sat back down next to Harry, keeping his hands firmly on his lap again.

"Let me see," he said. "Your neck. Let me see how it looks."

"Draco, come on."

Harry didn't want to scare him away. He didn't want Draco to see the bruise and decide that he wouldn't touch Harry again until the curse was removed. He didn't want that. He had been telling the truth when he had said that getting a few bruises would be worth it if he got to touch Draco and be touched by him.

"Stop being stubborn and let me see it, Potter."

Harry sighed, knowing that he wouldn't be able to get away from it and convince Draco to let it go. So, he turned his head to the right and let Draco look over the left side of his neck, waiting impatiently for him to finish his examination.

"How long do the bruises take to appear?"

Harry looked at Draco's frown from the corner of his eye and shrugged.

"A few seconds usually, a minute at most."

Draco's frown deepened and he grabbed his wand from his pocket. He cast a _Lumos_ and looked at Harry's neck once more.

"Harry," Draco breathed out, his hand reaching out but not quite touching Harry's neck. "There's nothing."

"What?"

"There's nothing," Malfoy rushed out. "No bruise. No redness. Absolutely nothing."

Harry looked at him confused. Then stared down at his hands, at his fingers and palms that had touched Malfoy's skin and that should be black and blue but that weren't.

"I don't understand," he mumbled.

"Do you think it lifted on its own?" Malfoy asked.

Harry didn't know. No one had said it would, but then again, no one had known a whole lot about it in the first place. Maybe it had lifted on its own. Maybe it had been a temporary thing.

"My shoulder," he said suddenly, startling Malfoy as he started to shrug off his robes and jumper.

He turned his head to look at the place where Ron had poked him earlier than evening and, sure enough, there was a bruise in the exact same place.

"I-" he pointed at the bruise. "This was this evening. It couldn't have lifted in hours. Could it?"

"I don't know. But what's the other alternative?"

From his voice, from the rushed words and flushed cheeks, Harry knew that Malfoy was thinking of the same alternative that he was. The one that would explain why his touch didn't leave any bruises on Harry while Ron's touch had. They were thinking of the same thing, but it seemed impossible. It couldn't be.

"Do you think that…?" Harry asked, voice soft and unable to finish his thought.

"It can't be," Draco's voice was even lower, disbelief in every aspect of it.

"Would it be that bad? If it were true?"

Draco stared at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed, put his sleeves over his hands and sighed.

"It wouldn't be bad." He still wouldn't meet Harry's eyes. "But it doesn't seem like it could be true."

Harry shook his head,d told himself that he was brave enough to do and say what they both needed to be laid out in front of them and moved his hand so it was resting on Draco's thigh.

"It does seem that way, but… The evidence is there, isn't it?"

Harry's hand moved up, stopped next to Draco's hand and hesitated before holding it in his own.

"And it's not like we don't want it," he teased, trying to lift the tension.

Draco laughed. A small, breathy sound. Still unsure. But his hand squeezed Harry's and there was hope all around. Hope for the two of them.

"I guess you're right. Shocking as it is."

"It does happen sometimes." Harry smiled and his other hand came up to touch Draco's face, unafraid now. "You're just thinking too much."

"I do tend to do that," Draco nodded, but his eyes were back on Harry's lips Harry knew that they both agreed that conversation was overrated. 

Harry wasn't sure if it was because of the month he had spent without touching anyone or if it was just because this was Draco, but every touch seemed bigger than it was, fuller and deeper. Every touch seemed to stroke his heart and make his breath hitch.

The curse didn't seem like a burden anymore. It would be lifted soon and for now, Harry was buzzing with the feeling of Draco's skin against his own. Despite the lonely month he had spent, Harry felt like he had ended up winning in the end. Winning more than he had ever asked for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it, the end of the story I wrote on a whim. Hope you enjoyed it!!
> 
> Shameless plug, but I made a drarry playlist while I was procrastinating if you want to listen it's on [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7c6OLY0NTGJ192vcuKPS6D?si=8QV06Kt7Qzy2Cg3WkYZcSg)
> 
> I'm also on [Tumblr](https://drarry-fanfiction7.tumblr.com/)


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